He Wasn't Richard
by Adela Hardy
Summary: Emily invites Simon inside instead of saying goodnight... and does something she'll always regret. Published in 2006.
1. The First Half

**Author's Note:** Hey, everyone! I haven't written a fic in a really long time, so please excuse me if this isn't very good. This is my first Gilmore Girls fic. I'm a big, big Richard and Emily fan, so I've read a lot of fics by Branda and several other people. Great stories! I hope you like mine. I appreciate reviews. Thanks! Oh yeah, I don't own Gilmore Girls or any of its characters, blah blah blah. You know this, I know this. Moving on. 

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"It's been a long time since I've had an evening quite as enjoyable as this one." Simon said, in such a smooth tone.

Me being a little tipsy, I grinned like an idiot and replied.

"I'm choosing to believe you, Simon, partly because it's flattering and partly because I've had three glasses of wine and a lemon jell-o."

I giggled a little bit, and turned to the front door.

"So, do you think we could possibly do this again sometime?" He asked.

I looked at him. I hadn't been out with anybody in several months now, and I hadn't done anything.. else.. with anybody besides Richard either.

"That would be lovely, Simon."

I started to open the door, and then turned back to Simon.

"Would you like to come in, Simon? Maybe we could have a fourth glass of wine."

He looked somewhat shocked, but understanding the message I was trying to get across, he smiled.

"That would be very nice, Emily."

I grinned, and opened the front door. My surroundings seemed to be moving ever so slightly. I usually limit myself to two glasses of wine, or else I drive Richard crazy. Richard. Had he seen me and Simon from the pool house? Did he know I had just let him inside? Oh well. So what if he did? This is his fault, not mine.

"Emily?"

I turned around. Simon was standing there. I must have been 'zoning out', to quote Lorelai.

"Yes. Simon. White wine?"

"Certainly."

* * *

I had just taken the last sip of my fifth glass of wine, and Simon had taken my arm. We were walking, tentatively, up to the bedroom. My knees were beginning to give way, and I had a feeling that was for reasons other than my being drunk. I hadn't done anything with anybody besides Richard in nearly fourty years, and I wasn't sure how I felt about the whole situation. Deep down, I knew I still loved Richard. Very, very much. But it wasn't fair that I had to suffer because he had ruined our relationship.

I led Simon to the bedroom, and opened the door. My nerves were taking over. I walked over to the bed, stumbling a little bit, and watched as Simon made his way over. He sat down beside me, and we turned to face each other. He was very handsome, though not quite as much so as Richard. I felt pretty, in my slightly too low cut shirt. It was something Lorelai would wear, not me, but I felt extremely daring. I began to undo his tie. I wasn't quite sure how, I was used to undoing bowties, but I figured it out. I slipped off my fur coat, and he began to take off his white shirt. My heart was racing. Maybe I shouldn't be doing this. My head was spinning, and as he began to unfasten my bra, I felt a little sick. We kissed, and I hoped that would make me feel better. He wasn't a bad kisser. He was actually very good. His mouth was warm. This didn't make me feel any better, but he looked happy, and it had been months since the last time Richard and I had made love. I didn't love Simon, but that didn't seem to be stopping me.

* * *

"That was very good, Emily."

"Yes, it was. I'm very tired, Simon. Maybe we should just go to sleep."

"Alright, if you insist." He was grinning, and I wanted to hit him.

Of course, I knew this wasn't his fault. I had invited him in. I may as well have begged him to have sex with me, but now I felt so wrong and unclean. I rolled over, and Simon rolled to face me. He was snuggling closer. This wasn't right. This wasn't Richard. Slowly, tears began to fall to my pillow. I couldn't believe what I had done.

* * *

Simon left the next morning. I tried to kick him out early, when I thought Richard might still be asleep. When he was finally gone, I walked back into my empty house, and the combination of emotion and a hangover hit me hard in the gut. My head was hurting, and my heart was hurting. I walked to Richard's study, sat down at his desk, and looked at the picture of us that was sitting on it. The tears from last night returned again. I was hurting, not just in my head and in my heart, but down there as well. Simon wasn't gentle like Richard. He acted like he hadn't had any sexual relations in years, and wasn't a very good listener. He had promised to call when he left, and I was tempted to unplug every phone in the house. I didn't want to talk to him. I didn't want to see him. And I most definitely did not want to kiss him, or have sex with him. I missed Richard, more than ever, and I almost grabbed my coat and ran to the poolhouse, but instead, I picked up the phone and dialed Lorelai's cell phone in tears. I had to tell somebody, and who else was there to tell?

"Hello?"

I sniffed. "Lorelai?"

"Oh hey, Mom! How did your thing with Simon go?"

She was completely oblivious. Maybe I shouldn't tell her. She didn't need to know about my sex life, especially any kind of sex life that wasn't with her father. But there wasn't anybody else to tell.

"Lorelai. It was bad. It was very bad."

"Mom... are you okay? Are you crying? What's wrong?"

"I'm so stupid, Lorelai. I'm so stupid and you're going to hate me. And Rory and your father are going to hate me. I'm so stupid!"

I was definitely crying now, there was no hiding that.

"Mom, calm down and tell me what's wrong!"

She actually sounded worried! I breathed in. Maybe I could tell her after all.

"Oh, Lorelai. I let him in my house! Simon! After three glasses of wine, I let him in and we drank two more. And then I led him up to the bedroom, and... well. You can guess what happened next. I'll spare you the details."

Silence.

"Lorelai, are you there?"

"Um... yeah."

She was very quiet.

"You mean... you and Simon. You had s- I mean... you cheated, on dad?"

It was my turn to be silent.

"Yes." I started crying again. "Lorelai, I feel really sick. I can't believe myself. Could you... could you come over? I really need someone to talk to."

"Of course, Mom. I'll be over soon."

* * *

The doorbell rang, and I practically ran to answer it. I wanted to tell Lorelai, and have somebody to listen to me and talk to me. To keep me company.

I opened to door.

"Hi, Mom."

She had a bag in her hand.

"I brought ice cream. Chocolate chip cookie dough. I also brought a bag of Lays and a few beers."

"Thank you, Lorelai, but I really shouldn't be eati-"

"Trust me, mother. This is the kind of food you eat when you're upset."

I had to smile.

"Okay, fine. Come inside. I want to talk to you about this. But you have to promise that you'll listen to me, and won't be disgusted or infuriated with me, and won't think I'm a bad person, and won't make jokes at the wrong time."

"I won't."

"Where do you want to go?"

"Well, Mom. To be honest, there aren't a lot of good 'girl talk' places in this house. Why don't we go up to my room?"

"Yes, alright."

I was so glad to have her here with me. We walked upstairs, and my mind flashed back to last night. I walked faster. I had to get this off my chest.

We walked into her room, and she ran over and plopped down on the bed. I walked over slowly, and sat cross legged besides her.

"Okay, Mom. Spill. What happened last night?"

The tears were coming back for the third time in twenty four hours. Lorelai looked a little scared. She hasn't seen me cry much.

"Like I told you. We had a nice dinner. I drank a few too many glasses of wine, and when we got to the front door, I just... couldn't stop myself. I invited him inside. We drank more wine, and I was so tipsy I nearly fell down the stairs when we started to walk towards the bedroom. Lorelai, I felt to wrong, opening that door. I was walking into my room. Your father's room. With another man. But anyway... he wasn't very gentle..."

Lorelai sort of shifted in her spot. I could tell this part of the conversation was very awkward for her.

"And then he left this morning and I went to your father's study and just cried. I felt so... I feel so... wrong and unclean. I broke a vow. I broke a commandment, damn it! And I know that if your father finds out about this... I'll have broken his heart. I can't believe it, Lorelai."

"So, you really did it. You really... cheated on dad?"

She almost whispered that.

"I did. I can't believe it."

My lip quivered, and I leaned over to Lorelai. Tears were flowing openly, and as I leaned, Lorelai put her arms around me. This shocked me so much, I almost stopped crying. Lorelai was hugging me. Lorelai was hugging me! I felt to happy to have her right then. I let her hold me, and I sobbed. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed she was crying too.


	2. The Second Half

**Author's Note:** Okay, this is only two chapters. Stupid, I know. Think of it as a one-shot, divided into two halves. A lot of this dialogue isn't mine, but some is.

* * *

It had been a week since Lorelai was over. I hadn't heard from Simon, and I certainly wasn't complaining. The pain down there went away, and so did the hangover headache. But the pain in my heart lingered, and it was making my days less and less enjoyable. After the incident with Simon, I realized how lonely I really was without Richard there. I missed kissing him, and I missed talking to him. I had seen him a couple days ago, leaving the pool house. His expression didn't look happy or glad to be rid of me. He looked a little depressed, and that made me somewhat glad.

So when the phone rang, and the answer to my hello was the familiar voice of my husband, I almost started dancing.

"Hello?"

A pause. "Hello, Emily. This is Richard."

A pause from me. "I know."

"Oh."

A longer pause this time. I was growing a little impatient, despite how badly I wanted to talk to him.

"Well, did you call for any particular reason?"

"Ah, yes. I was just wondering how you've been."

"I've been fine."

"Oh, good. I was wondering if I could perhaps come over. To look at some paperwork?"

"Oh. Of course, Richard. Now?"

"If that's okay with you."

"It's okay with me."

"Good."

* * *

"The lease on my Mercedes is up next month." I said.

We were looking at our various papers and invitations at the dining room table. I was so glad to have him here. He still has absolutely no idea about Simon. I don't know how to tell him.

"Do you want to buy it?" He asked.

"I finally have the seat setting where I like it."

He laughed. "I'll make the arrangements tomorrow."

"Thank you, Richard."

"Now, uh, we need to schedule work on the water heater. Um, I was wondering if Friday morning would work for you?"

"Let me look."

"They estimate the work to be about an hour, which means they'll be done in June."

This is very true.

"Oh, no, I have a hair appointment Friday morning." I said.

"For what?"

I smiled. "What do you mean for what?"

"Your hair looks perfect to me."

"Oh, now."

I could help but be flattered. He was flirting with me again. Maybe...

"Well, I can arrange for Robert to let the workman in and supervise it if that works for you." He said.

"Well, that would be fine. Thank you, Richard."

"You're welcome, Emily. What's next on the agenda?"

"The Modern Museum gala is coming up."

"Oh, yes. Martin Forman is being honored this year."

"And Sugar Farthington is organizing it."

"Well, if Sugar's organizing it, then of course you should go."

"Well, if Martin's being honored, then you should go."

"Sugar is one of your closest friends."

"Martin is one of your most trusted colleagues."

"Well, then, perhaps we should both attend."

"That does seem to be the sensible thing to do."

"All right. Then we'll both attend."

I smiled. We were going somewhere. Together!

"Fine." I said.

* * *

I saw Richard leave. He had mentioned a buisness meeting. I was so glad that we would be going somewhere, together, that I'd almost forgotten about Simon. The guilt hit me like an anvil, and I sat on the couch.

* * *

I was all dressed for the event tonight. I met Richard in the driveway, and smiled. I was glad we were getting along again.

"Well, funny running into you here. You look very nice."

"Thank you." He replied. His tone was different from the tone he had used at the table earlier.

"Do you have the directions?" I asked. "I have an extra copy if you need it."

"I'm fine. Thank you."

I gave him a look. He was acting very odd. "All right. I guess I'll see you there."

"Seems inevitable, doesn't it?"

I watched as he walked away to his car, and then I got into the Mercedes. Confusion was overcoming me. What had I done? Or, at least, what had I done that he would know about?

* * *

I pulled up in the car, and attempted to flag down one of the valet boys, when Simon walked over to my window. I put on a smile, even though I wasn't very glad to see him.

"Simon! Well, this is a pleasant surprise!"

"Waiting for someone?"

"Yes, a mysterious man with an exotic accent and a red coat to give me a ticket for my car."

"Ah. Well, I wish you a great deal of luck."

"So, who are you here with?"

"My daughter and her husband. They're right over there. I'd love for you to meet them. Diana, come here for a second!"

At that very moment, a car hit the back of the Mercedes, hard. What the hell? I got out of the car, and saw Richard getting out of his. Richard. Richard?

"Emily."

"Richard! Have you lost your mind?"

"I misjudged the distance."

"You misjudged the distance! You hit my car!"

"I was distracted."

Simon was coming over. No. Go away, this is not the time!

"Emily, are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm her husband, Simon. I'll ask her if she's okay." Richard said, forcefully. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"I'm fine." I said.

"She's fine, Simon. Are you happy? Now, go away."

"Emily, maybe you should see a doctor." Simon said.

"No, I –"

"We will determine whether she needs to see a doctor. This is a family matter." Richard said, in a voice that said Simon is certainly not a part of this family. Does he know?

"I'll call you tomorrow and see how you are." Simon said.

"She'll be fine, Simon. She doesn't need your call. Do you hear me, Simon? Don't call." Richard was really angry. He must know.

Simon left, and Richard grabbed my arm. Even though I knew I was the one at fault, I started to get angry.

"Were you bitten by some kind of rabid animal?" I asked.

"Let's go." He said. "You! You! I'm taking her home. I'll come back for this car." He said to the valet.

"You're what?" I asked. Home?

He drug me over to the passenger side of his car.

"You were just in a car accident, Emily. You can't go to a party after having been in an accident. Let's go." He said, and he started to force me into the car.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

He got into the car.

"Maybe we should take you to the hospital." He said.

"I think it's a toss-up who needs the trip to the hospital more." I replied.

"When you pull up to a valet stand, you get out of the car. You don't dawdle." He said. As if it was somehow MY fault that he'd just hit the car.

"I was waiting for someone to take my car!" I said.

"Well, you wait outside the car! Everybody knows that."

"It is not my fault that you ran into my car."

"I know you dated him."

The truth comes out. He does know.

"What?" I said, playing dumb.

"Simon McLane! I know you dated Simon McLane!"

"Richard, I was just in an accident. Now is hardly the time to discuss this."

"Fine. I found out about it in a business meeting, which was hardly the time to find out about it, but fine."

That's horrible. I was horrible. I felt horrible.

"It was dinner." I felt the words coming out, and I knew I was lying.

"Dinner. Of course."

"Nothing happened."

"Of course nothing happened."

There was an awkward silence. And then I whispered, "Richard. It wasn't just dinner."

His eyes widened slightly, and he turned the key in the ignition. We didn't speak another word to each other until we got to the house. He opened the door, and stood there, his back to me. I walked in quietly. I knew this was going to be bad.

"It wasn't just dinner." He said evenly.

I didn't answer, and he turned around. I noticed, despite his anger, that he had tears in his eyes.

"You... and Simon?"

I just looked at him. I could tell he was hurt.

He turned back around, and lowered his head. He started to walk away.

"Richard."

"Yes, Emily."

"Richard. I had sex with Simon McLane."

A tear rolled down his cheek.

"I gathered as much, Emily."

"But Richard, you don't understand."

"I understand perfectly."

"No, please. Just listen. Can we talk? Let's go sit on the couch."

We walked towards the couch silently, and sat down on it together, avoiding eye contact.

"Richard. I'm so sorry."

Nothing.

"I drank too much, and invited him in."

"He didn't... you know, force you, or anything, did he?"

"No." I said quietly.

"I led him upstairs after a little more wine. I felt sick as I let him into our room. Your room. My room. Our room. I sat on the bed, a little weak from the wine, and from all the feelings go through my head. I thought of you, in the poolhouse, and how much we had been fighting. I thought of how long it had been since I had been on a date, or had anybody besides you on my bed. I thought of how long it had been since I had done anything with you, and I saw the look on Simon's face. I let him undress me."

He looked away.

"He was so rough, Richard. He did hurt me. I hurt me. And I've hurt you. I feel horrible. I feel dirty. I feel wrong. I couldn't possibly tell you everything I feel. I've made a terrible mistake, but I know that's not an excuse. You probably hate me. I don't blame you. You probably want a divorce. I don't blame you. But I have to tell you something. I don't love Simon. I've never loved Simon. We didn't make love, we had sex. It hurt like hell, and I felt so very wrong doing it."

Richard was trembling a little. I wanted to grab his hand, or put my arm around him, or hug him, or kiss him, or just let him hold me. But I knew these things may never happen again, and I started to cry.

"I deserve to be hated. You should hate me. Lorelai should hate me. Rory should hate me. They both knew. Well, Lorelai did. I assume she told Rory. If you want to divorce me, you should. I cheated on you, Richard. And now I'm crying, which isn't fair because I didn't get hurt by anyone besides myself. But I'll miss you. You can't imagine how much."

We were silent. Richard attempted to regain his composure, and I did the same. He looked at me, and quietly, he said, "I don't want a divorce."

"Now it's my turn to talk."

I nodded.

"When I went to my buisness meeting, one of the men implied that something had happened between you and Simon. A hundred different emotions invaded my body at once. I was horrified, angry, devastated, depressed, disgusted, and hurt, beyond belief. I love you, Emily. I loved you when we were fighting. I loved you when we were separated. And I love you now. I couldn't believe that something might have happened between you and him, and even when I accused you, I wasn't sure I was right. But when you admitted it, I felt sick. I knew that because of our fighting, you had been lonesome enough to have sex with another man. And while I believe that you didn't feel any love for him, and I believe that you are truly sorry, I'm devastated that someone besides me has had my wife now. But, I love you Emily. And I forgive you."

I wanted to sob. Why?

"Why? You shouldn't. I don't deserve."

"No, you don't. But I love you too much to lose you."

I was crying.

"Richard."

"Yes, Emily."

"I love you. I love you so much. And I'm so, so sorry."

"I know. It's okay."

* * *

We were walking towards the bedroom. But this time, I didn't feel wrong. I didn't feel bad. I felt safe, and right. It was my husband unbuttoning my shirt, and me taking off his bow tie, and I felt happier that I had been in a long time. 


End file.
